


The Gift

by FishEyenoMiko



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, BFFs, Christmas, Christmas Party, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 10:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/pseuds/FishEyenoMiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joan and Sherlock celebrate Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [austen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/austen/gifts).



Sherlock entered the apartment holding the wreath Watson had put on their door. He unceremoniously dropped it in the kitchen trash.

"Hey!" 

Watson rushed over, fished it out of the trash, and brushed it off.

"Oh, what, you don't like Christmas?"

Sherlock gave her a confused look. "What? Why on earth would you think that? I love Christmas!"

"Then why are you throwing away my wreath?"

"It's tacky."

Watson sighed. "It was a gift, from a girl friend."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

Watson glared at him. "A friend, who was a woman..."

Sherlock pouted a bit.

"Fine," he conceded. "Hang it on the inside of your bedroom door. That way you can enjoy it without inflicting it on anybody else."

Watson let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Fine."

 

Watson had treated herself to a movie. As a sober companion, she wasn't supposed to be away from Sherlock for more than two hours, but the movie was short enough, and the theater was close enough to home, that she was able to get there and back in the two-hour window. She stepped out of the cab and headed into the brownstone.

Watson slowed down as she walked up the steps to the apartment. Something felt off. She sighed, wondering what Sherlock had gotten up to while she was gone. She climbed the stairs, hesitantly walking into the apartment proper. She stopped short, staring in wonder at the sight before her. 

Sherlock had decorated their apartment. There was garland above the windows, red and green lights strung all around, and, of course, a tree. Most of the decorations were the ordinary tinsel and baubles, but when Watson walked closer, she saw that among them were test tubes filled with red and green liquids, and tiny gold caducei. There were even already a few presents sitting around the base of the tree.

"Wow, you've been busy."

"Well... no cases, no drugs; I had to do something to pass the time."

Watson shook her head, smiling.

"So," Watson asked as she looked around, "I don't imagine you've been invited to any Christmas parties?"

"Nope. You neither?"

"We'll just have to have our own," Watson said decisively.

"Just the two of us? Handing each other our gifts while we enjoy TV dinners and sparkling cider?"

"We could have some friends over," Watson countered. "Alistair might want to come, and Alfredo."

"Ah," said Sherlock. He looked thoughtful. "Oh, we should invite Captain Gregson, too. And Detective Bell, maybe?"

"Yeah, that'd be fine."

Turning, Watson headed to her room. "I should probably get started on the invitations. Any idea when we should have-"

Then it hit her. She turned and faced Sherlock, who was grinning like a cat.

"You've already sent invitations."

Sherlock nodded. "Wrote them up this morning, sent them off as soon as you went off to the cinema."

"So when's the party?"

"The twenty-fourth, at eight P.M."

Nodding, Watson turned again, ready to head up to her room.

"Watson."

She turned back to her roommate.

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking," said Sherlock, "about my sponsor..."

"I thought we already settled this. You and Alfredo get along great; what's the problem?"

As Sherlock opened his mouth, his phone rang. He grumbled, but answered it. 

"Yes? Oh! Excellent--I mean, not that he's dead... where? All right, we'll be right over."

"A case?"

"Yep! Let's go."

 

As Watson finished the preparations for the party, she heard Sherlock coming down the stairs. She exited the kitchen, walking into the living room. Sherlock was standing near the tree. He was in a bright red shirt and black slacks, and was holding a red and green outfit.

"What's that?"

Sherlock grinned. "It's an elf costume! I thought you could wear it; you know, to entertain the guests."

"You're joking?"

"Oh, c'mon, Watson, get in the Christmas spirit!"

After a moment, Watson walked up to Sherlock.

"I'll wear the hat," she said, taking it off the hangar and placing it on her head.

"Oh, you're no fun," said Sherlock, pouting.

"Hey, I'm wearing the hat."

Sherlock seemed to consider this for a moment, then smiled.

The buzzer on the door went off.

"That'll be our guests," Watson said. "I'll get it; you can take that back to your room."

"I dunno, I thought I might wear it," Sherlock mused.

Watson laughed, then went to get the door.

 

The party was nice; there were enough people that there was some mingling going on, but not so many that it felt crowded. Everyone complimented Watson on the food and Sherlock on the decorations. While they hadn’t asked for presents, Alistair and Captain Gregson had brought some anyway, so there was some exchanging of gifts.

 

It was after eleven when Alistair got to his feet.

"Well," he said, "I really need to be going."

"Thanks for coming," said Sherlock, shaking his hand and giving him a genuine smile.

"Let me walk you to the door," said Watson.

"Thank you," Alistair said, following her down the stairs.

"Thanks for coming," said Watson. "It was great seeing you again."

"And you, Ms, Watson." He looked up the stairs. "You've been really good for him, you know. I think he's quite fond of you."

Watson opened her mouth to once again point out there was nothing going on between her and Sherlock.

"Oh I don't mean like that. I just mean that... well, as I mentioned that time at the bookstore, Sherlock doesn't relate to people the same way most people do, and you seem to have figured out how deal with him as well as... well, as well as anyone can."

Watson smiled. "Thank you."

"Good night, Ms. Watson. And Happy Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Alistair. Thanks."

As Watson watched to make sure Alistair made it to a cab safely, she thought about what he said. For all his obnoxiousness, Sherlock was a good friend to Watson, too. He encouraged her to observe, to look beyond the obvious, opening up a whole new way to look at the world. Watson found herself rather saddened by the thought of losing that when she left him. Sighing, she closed the door and headed back to the party.

 

About half-an-hour after Alastair left, Watson found herself alone with Captain Gregson and Detective Bell. She wasn't sure where Alfredo had gotten to, but she wondered if, after Alistair had left, Sherlock had left the party himself. Watson sighed. The party was his idea, and now he had retreated to his room, apparently to avoid it. 

"Well," said Gregson, his voice interrupting Watson's thoughts, "this was a lovely party, Watson. But it's getting late..."

"Yeah, I should probably head off, too," said Bell.

"Yeah, all right," said Watson. "Let me see if I can go find Sherlock."

Watson climbed the stairs to the bedrooms and knocked on Sherlock's door.

"C'mon, Sherlock stop being unsociable. Tobias and Marcus are leaving, could you at least-"

Watson opened the door. Before her was the sight of Sherlock lying on his bed, black slacks pooled around his ankles. Alfredo was on top of him, his clothes in the same state. Watson quickly closed the door again.

"Oh! I'm... I'm sorry..." Watson cleared her throat. "Our guests are getting ready to leave; it would be nice if you could come down and say good-bye."

There was a pause, then Sherlock said, "We'll be out shortly."

"Okay."

 

Watson took a moment to collect herself, hoping she wasn't blushing too much as she went back downstairs. Both Gregson and Bell were standing near the door; they both had their coats on already.

"Sorry," said Watson, "Sherlock will be down in a moment."

Sherlock quickly came down the stairs.

"Sorry 'bout that," she said, giving Gregson and Bell a quick smile. "Had some... business to take care of."

"No problem," said Gregson.

"Thanks for the party," said Bell as he shook hands with Sherlock, then Watson. "I had... a surprisingly good time."

"Same here. We should do it again sometime," said Sherlock. 

"Well, let's not overdo it, now," Bell replied with a grin.

They all laughed at this.

 

As soon as the door closed behind the police officers, Alfredo came down the stairs.

"I... should probably leave now..."

"I think that might be best," said Watson coolly.

"Aw, I was thinking you could stay the night," Sherlock quipped.

Both Watson and Alfredo glared at the detective.

"Or not..."

Alfredo got his coat and left.

 

Sherlock glared at Watson. "I don't understand; you've never struck me as a prude, Watson..."

"You shouldn't be sleeping with him, Sherlock, he's going to your sponsor!"

"It was an accident!"

"What, you both had your pants pulled down and he fell on top of you?"

Sherlock smirked. "Sure, let's go with that..."

Watson glared.

"Oh, c'mon, I-" Sherlock's eyes widened in realization. "Oooh, I see. You think this was intentional; that I did this to justify not having Alfredo as my sponsor, and thus not having a sponsor at all."

"Are you telling me it's not?"

"Yes, I am," said Sherlock. "We're... quite fond of each other..."

It dawned on Watson. "This is what you were trying to tell me before, isn’t it? You and he were having sex."

"Well, it was just one time... twice now." Sherlock grinned. "You said 'we got along great'; little did you realize how right you were."

Watson sighed. "Well... I guess I'm happy that you're in a healthy relationship." She grinned. "But now I'm going to have to find you a new sponsor."

"I don't need a sponsor, Watson; I've got you."

"But I can't help you the way a fellow addict can."

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I don't need a fellow addict, Watson, I need someone who can deal with me, who understands me. And you do. And you like my work, that's been obvious since the beginning. You've become a good investigator; you could be a splendid one. Not my assistant or 'sidekick', but a real partner, an equal." Sherlock smiled at Watson. "Don't tell me the idea doesn't interest you. And you said it yourself, you've got no client after me, so it's not as if you'd be abandoning anyone."

Watson looked thoughtful. 

"I hope Alfredo isn't too upset. He really wanted to be your sponsor."

"Yeah, well, I think we've pretty much burned that bridge. I could recommend him to someone else, though." Sherlock smiled. "And I intend to continue seeing him, and consoling him thoroughly about it."

Watson shook her head.

"So... is that a yes? You'll stay?"

Watson ginned. "From doctor, to sober companion, to private detective. It's not the worst career path, I guess."

"Ah, that's 'assistant consulting detective'."

"'Assistant'?" said Watson. "What happened to me being an equal?"

"Well, assistant for now," Sherlock corrected. "We'll see how things shape up in the future."

He gave her a smile. She smiled back

Watson looked at her watch. "It's Christmas," she observed.

"So it is," said Sherlock. "Happy Christmas, Watson."

"Merry Christmas, Sherlock."


End file.
